


Entwined

by Hanatamago



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Reincarnation, The violence isn't really that graphic but I'm warning for it anyway, Two tags you didn't think you'd see in the same fic huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29319873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanatamago/pseuds/Hanatamago
Summary: The Empire drew ever closer. There was nothing he could do. Ashe knew there was nothing he could do, but he did not accept it. Hecouldnot.“You will die if you stay,” Dedue murmured. Ashe kissed him, metal and salt stinging on his lips.“I don’t care," he whispered.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Entwined

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Ashedue Storybook zine! Thanks so much to the mods for making that happen :)

“I’m not leaving you,” Ashe sobbed. A hundred battle cries pierced the air as a distant battalion rushed into combat. The battlefield was desolate, and only getting worse. Smoke and miasma thickened into a wretched fog… The Empire had planned to cut them off from the very start.

“You must.” Wet breath crackled through Dedue’s lance-pierced chest as he tried for a weary smile. Crushed armor plates weighed him down, an arrow in his shoulder gushed blood from the punctured steel. And yet, as the battle raged on, Dedue found solace under the shade of the yellowing maple tree where he would die. All things considered, it was not a bad resting place. But… 

Ashe shook his head. Mercedes and Annette had already fallen back - they had no healers that could save Dedue. Not here, stranded in the enemy’s forest. The Empire drew ever closer. There was nothing he could do. Ashe _knew_ there was nothing he could do, but he did not accept it. He _could_ not.

“You will die if you stay,” Dedue murmured. Ashe kissed him, metal and salt stinging on his lips.

“I don’t care,” he whispered. Dedue simply nodded. He understood. He always did. Ashe could never live without him… Maybe it’s stupid and naive, but Ashe has chosen his fate. Ashe curled his fingers around Dedue’s steel-clad palm. “I love you, Dedue Molinaro, with all that I am.”

Light footsteps crunched on the autumn leaves behind them. An enemy, Ashe knew. There were only enemies left in the south where the footsteps sounded from. Their time was almost up. He draped himself over Dedue’s chest, as though he could shield Dedue from Death itself.

“As I love you, Ashe Duran,” Dedue said, voice thick with his weariness and rough with the blood seeping into his throat, “I am yours, now and forever.”

Ashe only wished that they had ‘forever’.

_‘Goddess’_ , Ashe prayed, ‘ _please let me stay with him. In your home in the stars, in the heavens of Duscur - even in limbo, bound to the earth… Anywhere, as long as we’re together.’_

“They must have kitchens on the Goddess’s star - we’ll cook together, just like when we were students.” The rumble in Dedue’s chest must have been a laugh.

“I am not of Fódlan. Do you really think she will let me in?”

“She has to,” Ashe chuckled, “otherwise I can’t stay. I’ll find you, Dedue, somehow.” The footsteps got louder, the battle raged on around them. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow-”

A thorned bone blade pierced through his chest, and the world ended.

-:-

Ashe’s phone buzzes when he enters the crowded coffee shop, buzzes again about twenty more times while he’s giving his usual order - a pumpkin spice latte with extra whipped cream (no other modifications, he’s not a monster) - and it keeps buzzing still when he finally finds an empty barstool to sit on while he waits for the gods’ delicious nectar to slide over the counter.

He whips out his phone, equal parts stressed and excited to catch up on the string of frantic texts Annette has sent in their friends’ group chat, and all the _side_ messages she’s sent between the two of them. In typical Annie fashion, she’s rambling on about this concert that Ashe just _has_ to go to, never mind the history papers he’s falling behind on. But it’s going to be fun, Ashe just needs to cut loose now and then, and who knows, maybe he’ll find a boyfriend. Ah, Annie’s words - not his. Although, he certainly wouldn’t mind-

“One PSL, extra whip!”

Ashe jumps up from his barstool, scurrying to grab his drink and make his way out of the cafe. Another buzz as he leaves. Ashe steps out, still half-looking at his phone, and immediately slams into some poor, innocent guy who is now drenched with autumnal spices and coffee cream.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Ashe squeaks, “Oh no, your scarf!” A cold terror floods through his body, only worsening when he looks up to find the most beautiful, _striking_ green eyes he’s ever seen. A huge, stoic-looking man with warm, tan skin and a loose, ivory ponytail stands before him, looking equally frozen in time. It isn’t until another busy customer rushes out of the coffee shop, bumping Ashe into the man again, that the trance seems to break.

“My apologies,” he says softly, “I bumped into you.” He’s just so… Familiar? Comforting? Like a fond memory, or the warmth of a campfire... God, what is Ashe supposed to even say? ‘Um, hey, I think maybe I met you in a dream and you’re really really really handsome?’ (Annette would never forgive him for fucking this up) Luckily, he speaks again first.

“Let me buy you another,” he offers. It’s far too generous, and Ashe feels terribly guilty about that - but if it means Ashe can spend more time with him... Ashe nods and flips his phone to Do Not Disturb.

“Um, I’m Ashe,” he holds out his non-coffee stained hand. “What’s your name?”

“Dedue,” he says simply, and gently takes Ashe’s hand in his own. The name rings out in his ears like a familiar melody he just can’t place. 

“Dedue - okay, yeah,” Ashe blushes, shyly meeting his gaze. The _‘have we met before?_ ’ sticks in his throat. His broad palm, still warm from being tucked inside his coat pocket, is littered with rough calluses and smooth scars, and somehow Ashe just _knows_ he’s got a million stories wrapped up in there. He wants to hear all of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of jarring, right? Hopefully in a good, cool, artistic way :)  
> I had a lot of fun with this piece, and having to work within a pretty small page count was actually a pretty fun challenge for this one. The zine had a ton of cool pieces in it, so hopefully all you Ashedue shippers will get to see some awesome content being posted from it in the next little while (plus the Ashe big bang!)
> 
> * * *
> 
> Come say hi on Twitter :)  
> [@hanatamagos](https://twitter.com/hanatamagos)


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